Champion of the Inquisition
by KyliaQuilor
Summary: Kiandra Hawke went to the Conclave in hopes of doing what she could to end the war that had consumed southern Thedas for the last two years. But now she's faced with a dead Divine, a new enemy and a continent still in chaos. Can the Champion of Kirkwall lead the Inquisition to victory, or will she fail in this as badly as she did in trying to keep the peace in Kirkwall?
1. The Mark

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Dragon Age Series.

 **Author's Note:** This fic will not in any way shape or form be friendly to Anders, especially early on. While he is dead in this fic, it will not be kind to his memory, or his choice to blow up the Chantry. This fic is from Hawke's POV entirely, and that means that we're only going to see her perspective, as a general rule. If you are offended by extensive criticism of Anders, or will be offended by Hawke expressing a desire that she'd killed him or let the Templars take him or something before he blew up the Chantry, then this isn't the fic for you. Hawke went full friendship with Anders, but she chose to kill him after he blew the Chantry up, and we'll explore her reasoning and logic for her views on Anders in the , you have been warned.

 **Author's Note 2:** I would invite anyone who is interested to check out my tumblr, .com - you'll find writing updates, metas, occasional writing excerpts, and I do various prompt fics there. My blog doesn't have a lot of DA content on it right now, and I can't guarantee that will change, so it might not be the average reader of this fic's speed, but it's there if you're interested.

 **Author's Note 3:** Thanks are extended to RogueHunter06 for beta-reading services! Moreover, this is my first attempt to seriously write anything for Dragon Age - if anyone thinks I have someone OOC or if I get some point of lore wrong or the like, please, feel free to (politely) correct me. I'm always trying to make sure I get my characterizations and lore right.

Champion of the Inquisition

By Alkeni

Chapter 1: The Mark

Kiandra Hawke had led a varied life in the last ten years – refugee, smuggler, trouble-shooter at large in Kirkwall, eventually even Champion. And, for the last two years, she'd been a wanted criminal on the run from the Chantry and the Templars.

But at no point in her life had Kiandra woken up on the cold stone floor of a prison cell. And she'd definitely not woken up in a cell without any memory of how she'd gotten there, or even what she'd done for the last... she wasn't even sure how long.

 _Well,_ Kiandra thought to herself as she straightened up, settling on her knees and ignoring the rattling of the chains around her wrists for the time being, _there's a first time for everything._

Looking around the room, Kiandra made a quick inventory – the chamber was small, and lit only by a single flickering torch. There were four guards along the walls, all of them watching her closely and pointing swords at her. They weren't templars, she could tell that much. But she didn't recognize what she could see of their uniforms.

 _There are enough people that want my head at this point, I'm sure._ With little to work with around her, Kiandra made a quick mental list of what she did have. She wasn't wearing any armor, just a simple shirt and pants, and not a set she'd ever owned. So someone must have stripped and redressed her at some point. And, unsurprisingly, she didn't have a weapon. Both of her daggers were gone.

The only pain she felt was in her left hand. Looking down at it, Kiandra blinked in surprise. "What the-" Her left hand was glowing a bright green color, with some sort of mark she couldn't make out underneath all the glowing. Without any warning, her hand throbbed, sending pain spiking up her arm, enough to drive all thought out of her mind.

"Argh!" Kiandra grabbed at her wrist, doubling over. As her hand throbbed, she remembered. Where she'd been. What happened. Some of it, anyway.

The Conclave – she'd come to the Conclave, to do what she could – up to and including turning herself in to the Divine's judgment – to make up for her part in causing this war. To atone for not realizing what Anders had been up to – for doing everything she could to help and protect him every step of the way; for tricking herself into believing that he had actually tried to free himself from Justice.

 _I had so many opportunities to just kill him, or let him die. If I'd taken one of them, we wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be a war._ Meredith had been insane, but without Anders providing her that excuse...

And of course, Meredith being insane was in part her fault as well. It was her fault that they'd found that damned idol in the Deep Roads.

Merrill had, unsurprisingly, been against the whole plan. They'd argued... in the end, Kiandra had left the woman she loved behind and come here. Her throat felt tight as she recalled the final words of their argument. And then...

Kiandra was drawing a complete blank. _I came to the Conclave... and then..._ She'd snuck inside, intending to present herself to the Divine, or at least someone close to her, and then...

Nothing. The next thing she remembered was... spiders. A veritable army, chasing her up some sort of... mountain or... and then a woman and then...

Kiandra was jolted from her recollections by another stab of pain from her hand and then the sound of the door opening, a Nevarran-accented voice ordering the guards to lift her to her feet. Gritting her teeth against the pain spiking up through her arm, Kiandra threw one of the guard's hands off of her shoulder.

"I can stand on my own just fine," she snarled. Kiandra didn't recognize the new arrival either, or the stylized eye on the front of her armor. She was tall, muscular and her armor was heavy, as was the shield currently slung over her back, clearly marking her as a warrior used to slogging it out on the front lines. Her dark hair was cut short, like Kiandra's, and she had a pair of short scars on either side of her face.

"Leave us!" The armored woman ordered the guards, and as Kiandra watched the four leave, she noticed another woman standing in the shadows by the door. She couldn't make out much in the way of the woman's features under her hood, but she seemed familiar for some reason.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now, Champion!" The swordswoman barked at her.

"Kill me or don't," Kiandra snapped, rattling her chained hands, "but if you're going to kill me, then at least do me the courtesy of unchaining me and giving me my armor back. I have the right to die with some dignity." Whoever this woman was, she probably blamed Kiandra for what had happened in Kirkwall. Fully and completely.

 _I have my share of the blame, but it was hardly all mine._ Hawke could only blame Varric's sensationalized stories about her for creating that view, even if that isn't what he'd written.

"Dignity?! After what you did? The Conclave is destroyed! The Divine is dead! Everyone- everyone who was there is dead, all save for you."

Kiandra's breath caught.

 _The Conclave?_ _Destroyed?_ The Conclave had some of the most powerful mages and templars in attendance, not to mention the Divine's protectors... what could possibly have destroyed the whole thing? Barrels and barrels of Qunari gaatlok? Dragons?

But if the Divine was dead...

"There's never going to be peace now," Kiandra said aloud in horror, realizing just what that meant. Justinia had been the only major voice speaking for peace between the mages and the templars. The world was truly going to completely collapse now. With no peace coming between the mages and the templars and Orlais at war with itself, Ferelden still recovering from the Fifth Blight...

 _There'll be no end to it. All the madness will create more of itself._

"No, there won't. Thanks to you!" The woman grabbed the front of Kiandra's shirt and shoved her backwards a few paces. "Did you decide to emulate your friend Anders? To outdo him? Was starting this war not enough for you!?"

Recoiling at the anger and accusation in the woman's words, Kiandra responded the best way she knew how: she lashed out.

"How dare you, you self-important bitch?!" Kiandra raised her voice loud enough to reverberate around the small cell. "I don't know who you are, or what you think you know, but don't you _dare_ accuse me of wanting to do what Anders did! I killed him for what he did, and if I could have known what was coming, I'd have killed him long before then!" Involuntarily, Anders' last moments flashed across her mind, the way he'd calmly accepted death, the way his body had twitched as her killing blade cut through his spine... the way his blood had washed over her hands...

The blood of a man she'd called friend.

 _He had to die. To pay for_ _what was to come._ But that hadn't made it any easier.

"I killed him, for the deaths he'd already caused, for the deaths that I knew were going to come. I killed him, and if you want to blame me for not killing him sooner, for not somehow finding out what he was planning and stopping him, then fine. But don't you _dare_ suggest I would ever want to do as he did. And I certainly didn't destroy the Conclave or kill the Divine!" Kiandra could tell that her mind was rejecting the whole concept, the whole idea that all those people were dead.

She wasn't processing it. She was just experiencing guilt and rage. And she was aiming it all at this woman.

Her accusations stung Kiandra.

 _This war is my fault... if the Conclave was_ _destroyed, then all those deaths are my_ _fault as well... the destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes is my fault._ And the fact that more would die because of this war - all of it would be her fault.

"Then explain what you were doing there!" The armored woman got in her face. "Explain how you were the only one to survive? Explain _this!_ " The woman grabbed her left arm and lifted it up as the glowing light crackled with energy, sending more pain spiking up from her hand. Kiandra almost doubled over again as the pain went completely through her, but pure stubborn pride forced her to stay standing, biting her lip until it bled. Finally, this fresh flash of pain ended and she spat blood onto the floor before speaking.

"I was there to do what I could to put this war to an end. I was there when it started and I wanted to be there when it ended." She looked down at the mark. "I have no idea what this is... I have no idea what happened at the Conclave." Her voice broke a little as she realized there was a complete blank in her memory. She'd arrived there, at the Conclave... and then...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No detail too small or large to have escaped her mind, it seemed.

"No memory? You expect me to believe that?!" The armored woman snarled in disbelief, grabbing at Kiandra again. This time, Kiandra was ready and she responded, moving just enough to escape her hand and wrapping the chain connecting her wrists around her assailant's arm.

"One false move and I'll break your wrist," Kiandra hissed. Before she could say or do any more though, she felt a blade digging into her stomach. She looked down to see a small knife in the woman's other hand, pressed against her.

"You even try it and I'll gut you, Champion."

"If you're going to kill me, then do it," Kiandra repeated, unwinding the chain from around the other woman's arm. "But killing me won't make me know what this thing on my hand is, and it won't be justice for a crime I didn't commit!"

"Hold, Cassandra. We need her." The hooded woman finally stepped into view, and Kiandra immediately recalled where she'd seen her before. Where she'd seen that face, that red hair.

"Sister Nightingale?" Kiandra remembered her as the woman the Divine – _no, the_ _ **former**_ _Divine_ , Kiandra corrected herself– had sent to try to convince Grand Cleric Elthina to leave Kirkwall before it was too late.

"Hawke," the other woman responded, then she looked back to the armored woman – to Cassandra, apparently. "We need her. And I believe her when she says she doesn't remember. You heard Varric's story. Do you really think Hawke would destroy the Conclave?" _Heard Varric's_ _story?_ Somehow, Kiandra didn't think that she meant that Cassandra had just read one of Varric's books about her. Had she interrogated Varric? she wondered, silently burning with questions and rage.

 _If she's harmed him, she's going to pay for it._

"Why else would she have come? How else could she be the only one who survived?" Cassandra demanded.

"I don't know," Nightingale answered. Approaching Hawke, she spoke, her voice stern and level. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

Kiandra shook her head. "I remember arriving at the Conclave, sneaking in. And then... I remember – I was running, from... well, spiders. What seemed like an endless wave of the things." Kiandra took a step back, away from Cassandra. The other woman didn't try to stop her from doing so, at least. "There was... a pyramid, or a mountain, or something. I was running up it, trying to get away, and then... then there was a woman. I took her hand when she reached out to me, and..."

Unable to recall anything else, she shrugged. "And I woke up in here."

"A woman?" Nightingale looked over at Cassandra, and the two seemed to share some sort of silent communication. After a long, quiet stretch of time – well, it _felt_ long – Cassandra turned away from her.

"Go to the forward camp, Leilana." Cassandra looked back at Kiandra. "I will take her to the rift." _Rift?_ What the hell was that? It sounded ominous, certainly.

"What did happen? What in particular is it that you think I've done?" Kiandra demanded.

"It's easier if I show you," Cassandra replied unhelpfully. "Come." She approached the door.

"That's it? We're just walking out of here?" Kiandra held up her hands, jangling the chain between them.

"The chain stays on for now, Champion. I know how deadly you can be even without a weapon." _Don't tell me she actually believes those stories about how I killed a dozen Coterie assassins armed with nothing but a soup-spoon..._ Honestly, Kiandra had _no_ idea where that one had come from. It was too insane even for Varric.

Lacking any other option, Kiandra held her tongue for a change and followed Cassandra out of the cell. Once she was actually outside, she'd have a better chance of escape anyway.


	2. The Breach

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age.

 **Author's Note:** This is and will stay a Hawke/Merrill fic, but it will take some time for Merrill to show up.

 **Author's Note 2:** Kiandra Hawke's a very opinionated woman, and she's going to start with a negative opinion of a lot of people, but that negative opinion is not necessarily mine. But this is all her POV. My point is, nothing you see is really meant to be character-bashing, just my Hawke's perspective, which is hostile to a lot of people (as she's a generally hostile person, being a mostly Red Hawke). Overtime, Hawke will develop a more nuanced view of the people around her, but she'll start far less so. And some characters she's just never going to like.

She's an abrasive woman at best, and that won't completely change, but she will be less of an active bitch to most people as time goes on.

 **Author's Note 3:** I actually love Cassandra as a character, and I grasp that I'm making her a little more hostile here than she was in the canon game, but I figure the combination of issues with Hawke from beforehand, what's just happened, and Kiandra's own responses are making her angrier - right now, Hawke and Cassandra don't get along. That will change, though.

Thanks extended to Roguehunter06 for beta-reading.

Champion of the Inquisition

By Alkeni

Chapter 2: The Breach

 **Haven**

Squinting against the sudden onslaught of bright light, Kiandra did her best to ignore the chill that the brisk mountain air was giving her. Without her armor and with only these fairly thin clothes on her, it was _freezing._ But Kiandra was damned if she was going to shiver in front of this Cassandra woman.

After a few moments, her eyes acclimated once more, Kiandra's eyes went up... and she saw it.

A massive hole in the sky – there was no other word for it. Swirling green light cutting through the clouds, coming down in a massive pillar onto the mountain... where the Temple of Sacred Ashes hadonce been. She couldn't tear her eyes away from it - it was almost mesmerizing, in a warped sort of way.

"We call it the Breach," Cassandra informed her as Kiandra stared at it. "It's a massive rift into the Fade. It grows with each passing hour, and it's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

"How is that even possible?" Kiandra couldn't help it as the question escaped her lips. "An explosion can't rip open the fabric of reality. That doesn't even make sense."

"Sense?! This is not about 'sense!' Sense was abandoned when demons started pouring out of these rifts. Sense was abandoned when the Conclave was destroyed with the Divine and the rest who were there died, ending any chance this war – the war you helped start! - had of concluding peacefully. Sense was abandoned when you fell out of one of the smaller rifts, the only survivor of the Conclave, with that mark on your hand! Every time the breach expands, so too does that mark!"

"I... fell out of a rift? From the Fade?" Kiandra had been in the Fade, once, but only to save Feynriel, and she'd gone in a spiritual sense, not in any physical sense. The only – the only people who had ever gone into the fade physically were the Magisters Sidereal. ... right?

Kiandra wished she'd listened in on more of her father's lessons to Bethany right about now, or picked Anders and Merrill's brains more about the way magic and the Fade worked. Because this... this had to be impossible.

And yet, it clearly wasn't.

"Yes. And unless we act to stop it, somehow, there will only be more of those rifts, and the Breach itself may grow until it swallows the world." As if to punctuate Cassandra's words with the right sense of dramatics, the Breach took this chance to grow in the sky, and Kiandra felt the mark on her hand spike pain up her arm again. She grabbed at her wrist, as if it would help anything, and dropped to her knees. She'd felt pain before, been beaten to within an inch of her life more than once, but this... it was some of the most intense pain she'd ever felt. Unable to stop herself, she cried out in agony.

Cassandra crouched down by her, "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads. And it _is_ killing you." There was, at the mention of this... mark killing her, almost a hint of softness or concern - at least a semblance of it - from the other woman. "But it may be the key to stopping this. We just don't have much time for you to do that."

Kiandra grit her teeth. Was this - was this woman _serious_? Tilting her head up, she looked the armored woman in the eye, "Not a minute ago, you were accusing me of being the _cause_ of this. I'm no mage, Cassandra, and do you really think I'd do this to myself?!" She held up her left hand.

"Not intentionally, perhaps," Cassandra allowed. "If your friend Varric is to be believed, you always preferred for things to never get worse... and this certainly counts as worse. But right now, you're the only option we have for dealing with this. If you're truly innocent, this is the way to prove it."

"So I solve your problem, and _then_ you kill me. Excellent. Just what I needed," Kiandra scoffed. "On the other hand, if this thing really is killing me - and I can believe that - I don't have much of a choice. Just tell me how to use this thing to help, and I'll do it."

"Good." Cassandra stood up, "And right now, none of us have a choice." Cassandra grabbed Kiandra around the arm and pulled her to her feet, half-pushing her to walk in front of her, holding onto her shoulder.

"If you want me to help you, I'm going to need a coat," Kiandra replied after a long moment. It was one thing to hold herself from shivering in front of this woman. It was another entirely to try to pretend she was completely immune to the cold - that much was simply suicidal.

Waiting for an answer to that, Kiandra looked around as they walked. There was a makeshift camp all around; people, soldiers and civilians alike, looking on, watching her, every eye filled with hate.

"They have decided your guilt. They need it," Cassandra explained. "They need someone to blame for... all this, and you are convenient."

"Sounds like they pick that up from you, Cassandra," Kiandra snapped at her. "You've decided my sole guilt for this, and for Kirkwall. Just because I'm the only one left from Kirkwall doesn't mean I was the only one with a hand in it. Your precious Divine didn't exactly help matters." Any real sense of guilt she felt for her part in the events of Kirkwall was, for the moment, being drowned out by a combination of anger and disgust at this other woman.

"Insult Justinia at your peril, Champion," Cassandra said harshly. "She sought to end this war, and now all chance of peace is lost." They passed the camp and continued on towards a gateway, which opened onto a bridge. "My patience with you extends as far as your ability to be of use." There was a note of deadly threat in her voice again, and Kiandra bit her tongue after a long moment's thought. She had little to work with.

"Lead on," she said finally.

"Good," Cassandra finished tersely. As they stepped onto the bridge, Cassandra took a heavy cloak from a pile of crates and half-draped, half-tossed it onto Kiandra. With her hands chained, it was hard to adjust it, but Kiandra managed to get it at least somewhat properly around her. It was better than nothing as far as barriers against the cold went.

"Until the breach is sealed, we must all remain focused on it, and not on anything else. However . .." Cassandra stopped and walkedin front of Kiandra, looking her in the eye, her expression grave, focused, her jaw set. "Perhaps you are right, and you are innocent - but this is bigger than you, and bigger than me. Even if we succeed, I cannot promise you anything more than a trial. I will do what I can to ensure that it is fair-"

"But how can it be fair when the people have already determined my guilt?" Kiandra finished. Cassandra nodded, and then removed a key from a pouch at her belt, unlocking Kiandra's manacles, which dropped to the stone with a clatter. Kiandra pulled the cloak closer around her.

"Come, it is not far."

"What is?" Kiandra demanded, "What exactly are we aiming to do here?"

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach," Cassandra answered. "If it can close the rifts, then perhaps it truly can close the breach." An experiment then. One that could end in her death, but could promise her a chance at continued survival. That was familiar territory for her, she had to admit. Following Cassandra, she crossed the bridge, hearing Cassandra order the gates on the far end of the bridge open.

A handful of soldiers stood behind makeshift wooden barricades, including a cart. Beyond them were nothing but dead bodies and small fires. Clearly, the demons coming out of the rifts were a significant problem.

Kiandra didn't ask for a weapon though. She would just take one from a dead body when it came to that.

One of the soldiers they passed muttered something about it being the end of the world, even the Maker's wrath. Somehow, Kiandra doubted that. If the Maker even existed, he had more direct ways to end the world than this.

The two women continued on past more small fires, more dead bodies, the smell of their corpses contrasting with the sharp mountain air. Once, along the way, Kiandra was forced to drop to her knees by the pain in her left hand. Only with Cassandra's help did she rise to her feet without difficulty. Kiandra spared her a silent look, unwilling to thank her. _She just means to use me._ Then again, that was something she'd grown used accustomed to. Kiandra had, in many ways, been used by someone or another throughout most of her time in Kirkwall. Even when she tried to do things on her own, for her own agenda, she was furthering someone else's, or responding to another's actions.

"We must act quickly - as the breach expands, so too does the number of rifts, and the number of demons we face." Cassandra said as the continued to move along, jogging - flat out running would only exhaust the both of them needlessly.

"If your Maker truly exists, then we'll get there when he intends us to, no?" Kiandra pointed out. "And if he does, I suppose I have him to thank for my survival."

"Perhaps," Cassandra said noncommittally. "You stepped out of a rift and fell unconscious. Some of the soldiers report seeing a woman behind you. No one knows who she is. The valley was laid to waste-" Cassandra was cut off from saying more as the bridge collapsed underneath them; Kiandra and Cassandra fell with it, and landed on the frozen solid river below.

Before she could make it back to her feet, a green, fiery ball fell from the sky, crashing into the ice, and in its place arose a familiar sight - a shade.

Drawing her sword and shield, Cassandra charged at the monster, "Stay behind me!"

"Fuck that!" Kiandra looked behind her and to the left and saw, amidst the debris, two daggers, as if they were conveniently waiting for her to take them. Dropping and rolling, Kiandra grabbed them and leapt back to her feet as another shade rose out of the ice, cracks forming all around the hole from which it emerged.

It was time to fight.

 **The Valley Under The Breach**

When the bald elf grabbed her left wrist and held her hand out to the greenish, almost crystalline crack in the air in front of her, Kiandra felt _power_ surging through her. Magical power. Green energy flew from her hand into the crack - the rift? - and within moments, it had vanished, leaving Kiandra disoriented and dizzy. This couldn't be what magic felt like; Merrill, Anders and Bethany had never hinted they felt anything like this after casting a spell.

Placing a hand on to? her temple, Kiandra looked at the mark again. "So it does work on them, then?" She could only hope she wouldn't feel this way every time she closed a rift. She turned to the bald elf:

"What just happened?"

"I really don't know," the elf replied. "But when I learned that whatever magic that opened the Breach also gave you that mark on your hand, I theorized it might be used to close the rifts. As it turns out, I was correct in my guess." Kiandra lowered her hands, listening to the elf - a mage, she assumed from his words and the staff across his back - speak as she looked around. During the fight she'd heard a familiar voice, seen what had seemed like a dwarf with a crossbow. But - it couldn't be. What would he be doing here?

 _Nightingale - Leliana - she mentioned Cassandra hearing Varric's story._ She only half paid attention to Cassandra and the elf speaking as she turned around and saw Varric, slinging Bianca over his back.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation," the elf finished.

"Good to know," Varric observed dryly. "And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." Despite herself and the situation, Hawke smiled.

"Varric!" She stepped towards her old friend, putting a hand on his shoulder in a familiar gesture - neither of them were ones for hugs (the only people Hawke had ever been comfortable allowing to hug her had been her family and Merrill), and had found other physical gestures to Convey their affection

"Hawke," Varric chuckled, "glad to see you're up from your nap. Nice to have a friendly face around."

"Indeed. And I see you still have Bianca. How did you end up here?"

"It's a funny story actually," Varric began, his eyes sparkling with a note of humor. "I was in Kirkwall, minding my own business when the Seeker here grabbed me and dragged me out here. Demanded to know the full story of how things went down in Kirkwall, then kept me around so I could tell the Divine the same, once the Conclave got started."

"A task that's no longer required of you. You've been free to go... though I suppose I can't be surprised you didn't," Cassandra observed.

"And lucky for you I didn't. You're losing men at a prodigious rate out here. You're going to need my help to get to the Breach. And you're right, I wasn't going to just leave Hawke to your tender mercies. Which brings to mind the question:" he asked as he turned back to Kiandra. "Why in the name of the Maker would you come here?"

"I thought I could... help end the war." Kiandra said softly, "even if my death or imprisonment was the symbol that was needed to secure that peace. I may not have started this on my own, but we can both agree that had I not been in Kirkwall, done the things I did, none of this would have happened." All the guilt she'd been clinging to since she'd awoken came back - her disgust for Cassandra and the immediacy of the situation had kept it at bay...

But this explosion. This was because of her too.

"That doesn't mean you need to throw yourself on your daggers, Hawke. You're always taking on burdens that aren't yours. But speaking of you coming here..." he trailed off. When he spoke, his voice was lower, all hints of mirth gone from his expression: "Did Daisy-"

"Merrill... she didn't come with me," Kiandra answered just as softly. "She thought I was being an idiot. Refused to watch me kill myself. We had... words." Kiandra put so much weight into that last word herself... not that she needed to for Varric to understand what she meant. Rarely had she ever argued with the woman she loved, and yet... the words they'd left on...

"I'm afraid I may have burned my bridges behind me, Varric," she said softly, barely holding back tears. Even if she made it out of this alive - not a guarantee, between this mark and Cassandra's promised trial - Kiandra didn't think she'd ever be able to fix things with Merrill. And now she didn't even have the consolation that at least she was helping to end this war to hold onto. She closed her eyes and took a breath, bringing herself back into focus, to the now. She had to compartmentalize, focus.

"Hawke, I've never met two people more in love than you and Daisy," Varric told her earnestly. He brought one hand up to his forehead for a moment, then looked up at her. "Look, when we're done with this Breach nonsense, we'll go find her and I'll help you two sort this out."

"Then perhaps we should focus on this 'Breach nonsense'," the bald elf mage interrupted. "My name is Solas." Kiandra turned, and nodded to him.

"Let's see if I can close the Breach then," Kiandra agreed, starting down the path once more.

"By the by," Varric said, walking alongside her, "you should probably thank Chuckles here. He kept that mark from killing you over the last few days."

"It's appreciated," Kiandra said to the elf. "I'm guessing you're not with the Chantry."

"He is not. He's an apostate, but his expertise has proven to be of use," Cassandra explained, sounding somewhat disgusted, but at least respectful about it.

 _Apostate? I'm liking him already._ In theory. She'd had... mixed experiences with apostates, to say the least. But anyone willing to ignore the Chantry's rules about mages was someone worth knowing, assuming they weren't going around slaughtering innocents or the like.

"Every mage is an apostate at this point," Solas pointed out. "The magic involved with this breach is unlike any I've seen - and my journeys have exposed me to many kinds of magic." His tone was level and calm, despite the world coming apart around them. He seemed to regard this all as just a thing to observe. "Which only makes it that much more troubling that I have never encountered something like this before." Solas turned back to Cassandra, who was still at the head of their little group.

"Hawke is no mage, and I have trouble believing that any mage could cause this to occur in any case," Solas added. "But she most certainly did not cause the Breach. It shouldn't have happened at all."

"But it clearly has," Kiandra pointed out dryly.

"This is true." Solas agreed calmly. "Which is only more disturbing."

"We're well beyond disturbing, Solas," Cassandra pointed out. "We need to get to the forward camp if we're to reach the Breach at all."

Kiandra nodded. "Who is behind this can wait until we don't have to worry about demons landing on top of us at any moment." She increased the pace of her stride until she was almost right behind Cassandra.

They had no more time to waste.


	3. Attempting Closure

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age.

 **Author's Note:** I was actually going to have more hostility between Cullen and Kiandra, but after taking a second look at the ending of DA2, tbh, I don't think that's entirely reasonable. As a mage-aligned Hawke that has no love for the Templars, Kiandra and Cullen wouldn't get along, but given that he more or less let her and her compatriots go at the end of the game, I can't help but think she'd have some slight grudging respect for him.

 **Author's Note 2:** This fic will be going on a short (one hopes) hiatus while I deal with certain computer issues that make it impossible for me to play Inquisition and thus work on the fic. Ideally it'll just be a month of delay on writing, which I'm already slated to spend writing other stuff anyway, but it could stretch more than that.

Thanks to RogueHunter06 for beta-reading.

Champion of the Inquisition

By Alkeni

Chapter 3: Attempting Closure

 **The Valley Under The Breach**

Even with compartmentalizing, seeing Varric and even briefly discussing Merrill had left Kiandra somewhere between barely able to function and on the verge of collapse. Only the desperate need to fight the demons in their way and the occasional stabs of pain from the mark kept her together.

Kiandra had always been a problem solver. Present her with a problem, a specific, single, isolated problem, and she could solve it. Untangling and handling complicated messes, however, like the Qunari, or the issues between the Templars and the Mages... very different propositions.

But this - this was a problem, a single, isolated problem. Demons needed to be killed, and the big fucking green hole in the sky needed to be closed. Everything else was distinctly secondary.

And so she fought, closing another rift along the way. Varric, being his usual self, proved unable to keep quiet, and spent any time between fights he had tweaking the increasingly exasperated Cassandra, who seemed perpetually on the verge of strangling him.

It was when they finally reached a second bridge that they found Leliana again. Kiandra could only assume that this was the forward camp. Lowering her blades for a moment, Kiandra took stock. There was another with the redhead, wearing the robes of a cleric of the Chantry. But this one was a man, so he had to be one of the endless army of bureaucrats and secondary officials that kept the organizational end of the Chantry running.

Not even an explosion and the death of the Divine could grind the wheels of bureaucracy to a halt, it would seem. It had an endless, nonstop momentum all its own.

"Ah," the man observed. "Here they come." The scorn in his tone was unsurprising.

"You made it," Leliana said, stating the obvious as she stepped forward. "Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

"I know who she is! And as Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution!" He wasn't even bothering to look at Kiandra as he spoke, staring instead at Cassandra. _So much for a fair trial._

"The criminal has a name," Kiandra pointed out. "And if we're going to talk crimes, are we talking about Kirkwall or are you blaming me for this Breach without evidence? I'd just like to know what I'm being killed for, if that's alright with you."

"You're not going to Val Royeaux. Not right now, anyway," Cassandra said to Kiandra. "I promised a trial, and you will get one, Champion." She turned to the Chancellor, "You are a glorified clerk. You have no right to presume to order _me_."

"And you are a thug! But you also supposedly serve the Chantry!" The man replied harshly. Somehow Kiandra suspected they'd had this argument before.

"They've been fighting over you - and everything else - since you fell out of that rift." Varric observed quietly, as if reading her thoughts. "Roderick's small-minded enough to give the nobles back in Orzammar a run for their money."

"He can't be _that bad,_ can he?" Kiandra muttered back. She'd heard some of Varric's choicer commentary on the dwarven nobility. From everything he'd said, they were the very epitome of small-mindedness.

"Oh, he is." Varric countered. Then he went back to spectating the conversation. Somehow, Kiandra suspected he was already writing this as the next chapter of the adventures of the Champion of Kirkwall.

"Call a retreat, Seeker," the Chancellor commanded Cassandra. "Our position is hopeless."

"No." Cassandra shook her head, "We can stop this before it's too late."

"You won't survive to reach the temple," the Chancellor countered, sounding like he was almost pleading with her.

"Given the kinds of odds I have faced before, yes, I rather think I can," Kiandra cut in. "These demons are nothing to be concerned with." It wasn't entirely false bravado on her part... but some of it was.

Without armor, and with only these simple steel daggers, unenchanted and unimproved, Kiandra was having a much harder time against these demons than she might have before. She'd managed to avoid being clawed or seriously injured by any of the demons, but jumping, rolling, falling and otherwise avoiding the demons' attacks left her sore and soon to be bruised all over. And... she wasn't at the top of her game in general, she'd found, since waking up.

"Your skills are undeniable, Hawke," Leliana said, "But there are far too many of them ahead. However, if we sent our forces ahead as a distraction, we could get around the main fighting and get you to the Breach. It's our best chance."

"We lost an entire squad in that pass. It's too risky," Cassandra disagreed,

"Seeker, I think we passed 'too risky' when the sky ripped open," Varric observed. "Whatever way gives us a chance of getting that problem sorted out the fastest is probably our best bet. Or else it won't be just narrative exaggeration when I say we're ass-deep in demons."

The Chancellor and Cassandra paid Varric no mind, however.

"Abandon this course, before more die, Seeker," the Chancellor pleaded again - it was a strange combination of plea and command, really. But as if to punctuate his words. the Breach suddenly grew again, and a ball of fire fell down into the valley, no doubt carrying still more demons. Kiandra's hand blazed angrily, pain spiking up her arm again, but she managed to stay on her feet, and this time at least the pain passed quickly.

The Chancellor's eyes widened a little as her mark glowed, and Cassandra turned to her.

"How do you think we should proceed, Champion?"

Kiandra took a step back in surprise. "You're asking me? I'm the criminal here. These are your men, and this is your operation."

"Perhaps, but your record of victory speaks for itself. And for this to work, _you_ need to be the one to get to the temple so that the Breach can be closed." _V_ _ictory? My record of victory is a record of disaster and almosts, Seeker._

"This is true, but that still doesn't explain why you're asking _me_ ," Kiandra pointed out. She didn't even have the slightest idea which was the best option, but throwing more men to die as a distraction while they went around seemed to be a less appealing option to her.

"If I were in command, I charge in directly, together with my soldiers. But I am not a commander of massed forces. I have no experience with it." Kiandra could lead a small group in a fight, yes, but massed forces? She had no idea how to command a large group of soldiers, or what went into leading them in a pitched battle. She knew how to _kill_ large numbers of advancing enemies, fighting in organized units, but that was an entirely separate discussion.

"You're not, but I am, and I too believe that to be the best course. Let us go." Cassandra turned and made her way to the other gate at the far end of the bridge. _Still don't know why she asked me._ Perhaps Cassandra was simply looking for an excuse to take her plan rather than Leliana's.

 **The Valley Under the Breach**

It was after closing yet another rift - how many of these things were there? - that Kiandra met another familiar face. This one, however, was not as welcome as Varric.

Cullen Rutherford. Second in command to Meredith. A Templar. But the armor he wore did not seem to be the regalia of the Templars any longer

Cullen was a Templar, but against Meredith, he had proven to be... sane. And in the end, he'd sided against her, and let Kiandra flee with her compatriots. For that, Kiandra did owe him a debt of gratitude. But what that had to do with his presence here, she didn't know

"Lady Cassandra. You managed to close the rift? Well done," Cullen congratulated the Seeker as he approached, looking somewhat the worse for what had already been significant fighting. He looked far more careworn and haggard than she remembered. But then, recent years had been hard on all of them.

"That was the Champion's doing," Cassandra replied, gesturing to Kiandra.

Cullen turned to Kiandra, then looked to Cassandra once more, "I take it that means you no longer believe she was the one behind the explosion?"

"I am not as certain of that as you... but I remain open-minded," Cassandra said, choosing her words with care.

Kiandra blinked and took a step forward. "You mean to say that you thought I was innocent, Cullen?"

"Of this particular act, yes," Cullen confirmed with a nod, sheathing his sword. "You're capable of many things, but this..." he gestured widely to their surroundings. "Not this. Even if you actually had the capability to tear the Breach open, you wouldn't destroy the Conclave."

"No, I wouldn't," Kiandra nodded. "I don't suppose we really have the time to catch up. Is the path to the temple clear?"

Cullen shook his head, "Not entirely. There are still demons in your path. It's taken a lot of dead soldiers to get us this far, and it could take even more to get all the way to the temple. I hope you _can_ close the Breach."

"That makes two of us," Kiandra nodded. She couldn't say she liked Cullen, but she'd been able to respect him before, and it seemed that she still could. Even if would be easier not to? "Assuming I make it out of this alive, I'm going to have to find out what the hell you're doing here instead of fighting with the rest of your fellow Templars."

"I have no interest in rebelling against the authority of the Chantry," Cullen said flatly, "But we must push on, agreed."

"We'd best move quickly," Cassandra said. "Commander, hold this position while we make our way to the temple. Give us the time we need to close the Breach."

"Wouldn't make for a very interesting story if we all got killed right as we got there," Varric observed. "Let's keep going then. No sense in making the demons wait for a taste of Bianca." He hefted his precious crossbow a little as he said that, to punctuate his point.

Then Varric turned to Solas, as if a thought had occurred to him, "You said you've never seen this sort of magic before, right?"

Solas nodded, "Correct. The Fade should not be able to be ripped open. Not like this, anyway. And yet it has been, so I can only assume if enough magic is brought to bear..."

"Granted, but aren't there easier ways to make things explode other than tearing open reality? I'm just a simple dwarf, but I'm starting to think the Breach wasn't the point of the exercise, no matter who was behind this."That hadn't even occurred to Kiandra, but... Varric had a point.

"We can worry about the how and why later," Cassandra cut in, as Cullen moved out with his men. "We need to move, quickly."

 **The Temple Ruins, Under the Breach**

The temple, even a shattered husk as it was, was massive. Kiandra's pace slowed, then she stopped, as they walked 'inside'. They stood on a balcony, overlooking the interior... and at the center was a tear in the air, green energy flowing up from it into the Breach. It seemed as if that rift was the one creating the Breach.

"That rift is the key," Solas explained, "It was the first, and if you seal it... that should seal the Breach."

"That's... better than the alternative plan of hoping I grow wings." Hawke said slowly.

"Quite." Solas agreed.

As she looked out over the temple, she saw something else... strange crystalline formations growing out of the earth. Red formations.

Familiar formations.

Kiandra swallowed as she realized what they were, and she heard Varric's breath catch behind her.

"Hawke, I'm going to need you to tell me that I am _not_ seeing what I think I'm seeing," Only Red Lyrium had ever been able to phase Varric like this. His voice was tense, hurried, and it carried a small note of desperation.

"I really wish I could, Varric," Hawke replied flatly. "But I don't think I can." She was so caught up in trying to process the sudden appearance of the Red Lyrium that she barely noticed the arrival of Leliana and her men. "But this is Red Lyrium." She swallowed slowly, suddenly desperately wanting to be anywhere but here. She'd seen what Red Lyrium could do, and she had no interest in watching it happen to her, or to... anyone else. Even Meredith hadn't deserved the ending she'd gotten, turning into a statue of solid Red Lyrium. She'd heard that Meredith's remains still hadn't been moved from their place in the Gallows. She believed it.

"How did it get here?" Varric asked, "It was only supposed to be in that Thaig."

"Clearly not." After seeing what Red Lyrium had done to Meredith, one of the things she'd tried to do while on the run, was understand just what Red Lyrium _was_. No one, not even the Grey Wardens, had any idea, so far as she had been able to tell. She'd reached out to Stroud, the Grey Warden who had helped her briefly during the Qunari attack on Kirkwall, but he knew little, promising only to contact her if he did learn something.

"Perhaps the explosion of magic that created the Breach somehow turned the Lyrium that was present here into... this. Corrupted it," Solas suggested.

"However it got here, just remember not to touch it. Believe me Chuckles, Seeker, you don't want to feel what it does to you first hand."

"We need to get down there," Kiandra gestured to the rift. She swallowed, forcing herself to focus on the rift, the Breach. They could examine the mystery of the Red Lyrium later. Or never. Never was good. Close the breach, and then leave. And never come back here, and just let this... shit sit here, untouched by anyone.

Slowly, Kiandra walked towards what seemed to be mostly intact stairs. Suddenly, a voice rang out, echoing. It was cultured, calm... and familiar. She couldn't place it, but somehow, Kiandra knew she'd heard it before, somewhere.

"Prepare the sacrifice."

It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. It was eerie. Haunting, in a way.

Then another voice, Orlesian-accented, rang out, the same echoing quality to it. "Someone! Help me!"

"That is Divine Justina's voice!" Cassandra informed them, sounding both hopeful and incredulous. Kiandra ignored her, still trying to wrack her brain as to why that first voice sounded familiar, dropping down the last small distance to the lowest level of the temple, where the Rift waited, floating just out of natural reach.

But Kiandra's reach, in this case, was anything but natural. Her left hand started to glow and throb once more. Gritting her teeth, Kiandra held her hand towards the rift as the second voice, Justinia's voice, could be heard again.

"Someone! Help me!"

And then... Kiandra nearly stumbled back as she heard _her own_ voice. "What's going on here!?" It was a stern, angry demand. Exactly how she'd speak that question. But...

 _I was there... when... whatever happened, happened. S_ he had no recollection of saying this, of hearing the Divine cry out for help, but if this wasn't some sort of illusion, then... it had happened in the blank spots in her memories.

"That was your voice..." Cassandra said softly, her tone something approaching wonder. "Most Holy called out to you...but..." Before Cassandra could say more, the rift crackled again, black smoke spreading from it for a moment, and Kiandra's vision was filled by two ethereal figures formed above the rift, one a woman that she could only assume was the Divine and another, maddeningly familiar-looking figure, but shrouded in shadow, or just... ill-formed or something. The other was tall, gangly, fingers long and clawlike.

 _Who is that? I know them... I know I know them..._

A third figure appeared - it took Kiandra a moment to realize she was looking at herself. She was wearing her armor, carrying the daggers she'd brought with her.

"What's going on here!?" Then there was a pause, "You! How can-" _So I did recognize him..._ Kiandra could hear the horrified recognition in her voice, see it on her face. But s _till_ Kiandra couldn't place it.

The Divine looked to 'Kiandra', "Run while you can! Warn them!" The Divine pleaded, immobilized by some sort of magical energy.

"We have an intruder. Slay them!" The rift glowed once more and the figures... vision... whatever, vanished.

Breathing heavily as her mark throbbed and glowed again with renewed vigor, Kiandra ground out a question: "What was that?"

"You were there? Who attacked the Divine? Is she - is this vision true? What did we see?" Cassandra moved to stand in front of her, glaring, closing the distance between them.

Kiandra closed the rest of the distance, getting into Cassandra's face, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't remember for it to stick in your mind!?" Kiandra could guess that saying she recognized the voice and the figure of the Divine's attacker was a bad idea.

"It was an echo of what happened here. Time doesn't exist in the Fade, as we understand it... and as the Fade bleeds into this place, so too does time mean less here. This rift has not been sealed yet, but it is... closed. For the time being. Before you can seal it," Solas said, turning to Kiandra, "it must be re-opened."

"That doesn't sound like the safest of ideas," Kiandra pointed out. "Won't that give us more demons to fight?"

"It could very well do so, but if we don't open it, we can't seal the breach," Solas pointed out. replied

"What's a few more demons after all the ones we've fought so far?" Varric laughed, but Kiandra could pick up on the underlying fatigue in his voice. Fighting their way this far had taken a toll on all of them, and now they had to fight again.

"Stand ready!" Cassandra commanded to Leliana's men. Swords were drawn, arrows notched on bows. Kiandra drew her daggers again, twirling them unnecessarily in her hands as she crouched into a ready stance and held her left hand out towards the rift. More green energy flowed from the mark to the rift, and then... a demon appeared.

A massive, spine-covered demon. A Pride demon.

 _Fucking Maker-damned_ _s_ _hit._ This... this was orders of magnitude greater than what she'd fought thus far...

Kiandra readied herself as the demon roared. The trick, for her, was to get in close, where it couldn't get at her as easily, once she was right up against it.

"Now!" Cassandra lowered her sword in a single chopping motion and arrows flew into the demon. Most bounced off its thick hide, but a few connected, embedding shallowly in the demon, which showed no signs of noticing the attacks as it charged.

Ducking under its massive and wildly swinging claws, Kiandra rolled towards it, rising right behind it, next to its left leg. Kiandra cut furiously at that leg, digging for tendons if she could reach them. But the hide was so thick, all she was managing were shallow cuts. The demon roared, staggering back and out of reach, and once more Kiandra had to dodge its swings.

It felt like the fight stretched on for an age, but it couldn't have been that long. Without any armor to protect her, Kiandra knew any blow from the demon would kill her, and so she spent more time evading its attacks than actually hitting it. - Solas's ice magic slowing it in place quickly proved to be the only thing that kept her alive throughout the fight

Fortunately, the others seemed to understand she wasn't being a coward. If she died, the whole project failed, and the soldiers and Cassandra rallied to her defense, charging the creature when and where they could. Varric, meanwhile, stayed far back, sending bolt after bolt after bolt into the demon, Bianca's powerful mechanisms allowing the projectiles to embed themselves deeper into the creature's flesh than the arrows could.

As the demon started to falter, dropping onto one knee, Kiandra saw her opening. It was near the walls, and if there was one thing ruined walls provided a lot of, it was easy climbing handholds. With a running start, Kiandra bounded up part of the wall, her feet using a small pile of rubble to catch onto. She grabbed an outcropping of stone, swung and bounded off the wall sideways, landing well on the pride demon's back. It tried to throw her off, but Kiandra dug one dagger into its neck and held on for dear life as she took the other and drove it into the demon's neck over and over, ignoring the black, sticking, burning ichor spilling out over her hand and and over her. She could survive the small burns the demon's blood would give her.

Kiandra felt the demon stagger again, and it fell on both knees. Pulling her daggers off, Kiandra backflipped off the demon and landed - unfortunately, she misjudged her jump, and landed sprawled on the ground, face first, only barely avoiding breaking her nose in the process. She had managed to just angle her head a little so she wouldn't land on it.

But any embarrassment at her failed landing was short-lived, because the demon, bleeding from its neck and still being bombarded with ice spells, bolts and arrows, finally fell to the ground. The earth shook around them as Kiandra staggered to her feet and nearly fell back over right away.

But the demon was dead. That was rather the important part.

Kiandra hurt all over, but there was still one more task. The rift was open. Now it was time to close it. Even as Cassandra shouted 'do it!' somewhere to her left, Kiandra was raising her hand to the tear in reality, letting the mark do its work, her other hand around her middle.

The energy continued to flow from her hand, longer than it ever had for the other rifts, and the pain from her hand spread throughout her, as if every part of her body was on fire, needles being driven into her flesh...

An explosion of green energy flew up from the rift, and then Kiandra felt the world go black as she fell.

Falling. Falling.


	4. The Inquisition is Born

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any element of the Dragon Age series.

 **Author's Note:** It has indeed been a while. But I can now play DA: I again, so working on this fic is once again practical.

Thanks to Roguehunter06 for beta-reading.

Champion of the Inquisition

By Alkeni

Chapter 4: The Inquisition is Born

 **Hut, Haven**

This time when Kiandra woke in an unfamiliar place, it was at least a bed.

For a long moment, she didn't want to open her eyes. Every muscle in her body was sore. Unsurprising, given that she'd just fought a fucking Pride Demon without any armor and with absolutely terrible weapons.

She just wanted to lie there, enjoy the comfort and softness of the bed - the _real_ bed - underneath her.

In recent years, living her life on the run as she had meant that enjoying a simple, actual bed (rather than a bedroll or maybe a cot in a cheap and seedy inn, if she was lucky) had been a rare treat. This bed was warm, soft, comfortable, and _much_ better than the prospect of waking up to a world where the Conclave had been destroyed, where everythimg was on the verge of total collapse.

 _Because of me._ Kiandra had been there… at that moment… somehow. And she hadn't stopped it. Exactly how she'd failed was unknown to her… but she _had_ failed.

 _That's two world-changing explosions I haven't stopped._

And the bed was also better than facing whatever 'trial' Cassandra had arranged for her. Fair would of course be tossed out the window. Whatever Cullen, or even Cassandra herself, might think, the rest of the world, so far as she had seen, had decided that she was guilty.

But…

 _I'm not going to let them drag me to my death. Never._

Slowly, she opened her eyes, realizing with more than a little annoyance that she'd once again been stripped and redressed.

She was in… a home, of some kind? Small, wooden walls, just the one room. A peasant's home, then. A fire burned in the fireplace, at least.

 _I must be in Haven._ She'd cut around the small village on her way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but this was the only place nearby they could have taken her that would have a house, a place someone actually lived…

 _Someone I've probably kicked out…_

Blinking a little, Kiandra sat up and saw a woman, an elf, by the door, carrying a box. But at the sight of her, awake, the elf dropped it, the sound of glass or pottery breaking ignored.

"I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" The woman - a servant? - pleaded, as if expecting to be berated for…

 _For what… coming in while I'm awake?_

"Why are you afraid of _me_?" Kiandra demanded. There were no weapons in sight, and she wasn't going to ever 'berate' the help.

"I've - I've said the wrong thing. Done it wrong. I'm sorry," the woman said hurriedly.

"I don't… I don't think so…" Kiandra felt nothing but confusion. She blinked. "What's… what's going on? Where am I?"

In response, the elf dropped to her knees, then bent completely, prostrating herself before Kiandra.

"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant." Kiandra blinked again. _My blessing?_ _I'm not a Chantry sister…_ Even as Champion in Kirkwall, no one had asked her for her 'blessing'. Kiandra's head hurt trying to make sense of what was happening, her mind swirling with questions. Had she closed the breach? Why… what the fuck was going on with this woman here?

"Three things," Kiandra said as she pushed herself off of the bed and onto shaky legs. "One, you don't need to apologize for anything, so no forgiveness necessary. Two, I don't have any damn blessings to give and I have no clue why you'd think I would, and three, stand the fuck up!"

"I…" The elf straightened up, slowly rising to her feet, but she refused to meet her eyes. "But… but you saved us… the Breach has stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand, and they say it was you that did it. It's all anyone has been able to talk about for the last three days!"

 _Stopped growing? Not closed?_ Kiandra processed that information first. The obvious conclusion there was that Solas' theory wasn't enough. That closing that one rift in the temple hadn't been enough.

Which meant that they might be keeping her alive for longer than she'd thought... they still needed her. Or at least the mark on her hand.

Then Kiandra registered the rest of it. Three days? She'd been out of it for three _days?_

Word of the explosion had spread by now…

Kiandra swallowed. If Merrill heard…

 _No. No. She's not that close. She won't hear about this for days more to come…_ at least. But Merrill would find out… and then what? Would she assume Kiandra was dead? Would she come to look for her, for her body? What… what would she do? _She still… she still loves me… right?_ If that was true - and Kiandra prayed to a Maker she didn't completely believe in that it was - that meant she would grieve. Her own clan hated her unconditionally… Kiandra was all Merrill had.

Kiandra forced herself to take a deep breath before she started wondering about her beloved's reaction to the news, of Merrill's potential grief. There was nothing she could do about it right now.

"So… I guess they're happy with me then, if the Breach isn't growing."

"I… I wouldn't know. I only know what I've heard!" The woman exclaimed. "I… I'm sure Lady Cassandra would want to know you've awakened. She said 'at once!'" The elf started to back away from her, towards the door.

"Then go, tell her. And where might she be, anyway?"

"In - In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor!" The woman replied, before she turned and bolted out the door.

 _Great._ So maybe it had been as much fear of Cassandra as fear of her that had the servant all tied up in knots, jumping at her own shadow.

 _I suppose she can be fairly intimidating and imposing._

Kiandra pushed herself off of the bed and looked for the daggers she'd been using, or possibly for a suit of armor. Surprisingly enough, she found both. The armor was nothing like what she'd had before, but at least the simple leather would provide basic protection, especially against blunt force, which was hopefully enough.

The daggers were there as well, and after a long moment, she sheathed them across her back. Cassandra had either decided she really was innocent from that 'vision' they'd had of the few moments before the explosion...

 _Or she's decided I'm allowed to face death with weapons in my hands._ Kiandra was in no position to assume the best. She donned a heavy cloak over her armor and stepped outside of the little house she'd been in.

She only needed to blink against the sun's brightness for a moment before adjusting. A mass of people - soldiers and commoners - were lined up on both sides of a dirt 'road' just beyond 'her' doorstep. More soldiers were near that doorstep, standing guard, presumably against the commoners, to keep them from getting close. They stood at attention at her approach, hands clasped to their chest in respect.

She expected angry murmurings, hateful glares, like she had on her way to the Breach.

Instead, she got awed gazes as she walked between them, hoping the road led to the Chantry and to Cassandra.

"That's her… that's the Herald of Andraste," one murmured. "They say Andraste herself was watching over her when she came out of the Fade." Kiandra's mind flashed to those bits of memory she had - the spiders, the mountain…

 _The woman._

Kiandra remembered reaching for her hand… and then…

 _They think that woman was Andraste? Could it really be . . .?_

No.

If she had been in the Fade - actually _in_ the Fade, then it was some kind of Spirit that she'd encountered. Like Justice…

The Maker was probably nonsense, and his prophet merely a mage who had launched a religion. If the Maker really was real and acted in this world… well, Kiandra could imagine it would have to be different. Better.

She did her best to ignore the rest of the awed murmurings that the assembled people gave as she walked by, looking for the Chantry structure. Soon enough, she saw it in the distance and made a bee-line for it, ignoring still more looks and awe. She'd had some experience doing that in Kirkwall, after being proclaimed Champion, but this seemed to be even deeper… and she'd hardly done anything to merit the awe. She hadn't even closed the Breach!

And yet they kept calling her 'The Herald of Andraste'. It was clearly something that had circulated a lot while she was asleep.

 _Do I have Varric to blame for this?_ Had he told stories about that fight in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes… embellished it as he always did? Was that why people were suddenly looking at her as if she was their savior?

 _I'm no one's savior._ All she had ever done was bring death, chaos, and destruction.

And yet… Kirkwall had seen her as a hero. Even to the end, even after the end, many still saw her as one, from what little she'd heard about her home while on the run with Merrill.

 _"There's a recipe to a good hero, Hawke, it's like alchemy. Take one part down-to-earth, one part selfless nobility, two parts crazy fool, and season liberally with wild falsehoods. Let that percolate through a good audience for a while, and when you're done, you've got your hero."_

And Varric had made his hero, and many had continued to cling to it.

And now more were.

 _If this is you, Varric…_

 _I don't need people looking at me with hope in their eyes again._

She'd failed too many people for that to be worth anything.

 **Chantry, Haven**

"Have you gone completely mad!" Kiandra heard the raised voice of Chancellor Roderick through the door as she approached the end of the entrance hall. "She should be sent to Val Royeaux, to be tried by whomever is named Divine!"

 _Good to know at least one person still wants to lock me up..._

"I do not believe she is guilty," Cassandra's distinct, Nevarran accent replied, answering yet another question for Kiandra.

"The prisoner failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, she intended it that way! She's the reason this war even started - the reason there was even a Conclave to destroy!" In a twisted sense, she could even follow the man's logic. If she was to be blamed for both the start of the mage rebellion - which was… fair, and for destruction of the Conclave, which was not…

Well, casting the two explosions as part of the same nefarious plan made a lot of sense.

"I do _not_ believe that."

"That is not for you to decide!" Kiandra had heard enough. Roderick had taken a clear position on her guilt. So too, had Cassandra, it seemed..

Kiandra flung the door open, letting it bang against the wall as loud as she could make it. Cassandra was standing behind a table as she argued with Roderick, while Leliana was standing against the far wall wordlessly.

"Chain her!" Roderick pointed at her. "I want her prepared to be sent for trial!" Kiandra watched both guards look to the Seeker for confirmation. Whatever the legal niceties of who ran things, it seemed Cassandra held the real power here.

"Disregard that!" Cassandra ordered the guards. "Leave us." Both guards obeyed immediately, closing the door behind them. "The Breach may be stable, but it remains a threat. I _will not_ ignore it," Cassandra said to the Chancellor harshly.

"So… you need my help still. Is that all? And if I do help you finally close the Breach, what then?" Kiandra demanded.

"The Divine called out to you for help, and it is clear that there was someone else responsible for the explosion there with her and you," Cassandra said firmly. "That someone was responsible for the Breach."

"And that someone was a person I apparently recognized, if we go by that vision," Kiandra pointed out, ignoring the sputtering chancellor who was trying to get a word in edgewise. For a split second, Kiandra thought back to the horrified shock and surprise in her voice in the vision, her mind returning to the Chancellor's accusation that this was all, from Kirkwall's Chantry to right now, one single nefarious plan.

 _Could it have been Anders? Or Justice?_

She couldn't imagine how Anders could be alive… she'd felt his body give out, felt his hot blood wash over her hand.

But Justice…

 _Could he have survived? Returned to the Fade… possessed someone else?_ It seemed impossible… and yet…

Who else did she know that would want to destroy the Conclave?

 _But how would I have recognized Justice in a new body?_ It hadn't sounded like him…

"Exactly! Someone that you were conspiring with! That's how you survived, how you have that mark! What other explanation is there?" Kiandra drew one of her daggers, pointing it at Roderick.

"You are an idiot. I've never had much respect for the institution of the Chantry, and you're not doing much to raise it in my esteem, Chancellor." Kiandra took a step towards him. "I didn't destroy the Conclave. Who did, I couldn't tell you, but if I did, why would I want to close the rifts? If they were, in fact, my creation?" Kiandra lowered the dagger and took yet another step towards him, leaning in close, her voice low. "If you _have_ a brain underneath that ridiculous hat, I suggest you use it!"

"I - I…!" Roderick stumbled backwards, sputtering even more, at a total loss for words. Somehow, Kiandra suspected this was not a common occurrence.

"Enough, Champion!" Cassandra barked, and Kiandra took a step back, looking over at the Seeker. "It would not do to frighten the Chancellor to death," she added, something resembling a smirk entering her voice. She looked over at the man. "The Champion's survival, the mark that has allowed her to stabilize the Breach and close the smaller rifts… these are clearly signs of providence. The Maker has sent her to us to aid us in our darkest hour… and to remind us, it would seem, that he truly does work in mysterious ways."

"Oh, please, _please_ don't tell me you actually believe in this 'Herald of Andraste' shit that I heard on my way here? I am not some kind of chosen one!" Kiandra sheathed her blade and crossed her arms in front of her, exasperated.

"We are all subject to the Maker's will, Champion, whether we wish to be or not. Whatever you believe, you are exactly what we need, exactly when we needed it." The fervent conviction in her voice told Kiandra all she needed to know. There would be no convincing this woman that she wasn't some divinely appointed champion.

Even if there was a Maker… Kiandra had made herself into who she was, step by step, across her entire life. After their father had died, she'd protected Bethany as best she could, so no Templars would find her, taking that burden onto herself, not sharing it with anyone, not even Carver. She'd always had to fight for everything she had.

 _I am just one woman. A woman who stumbled into wealth in the Deep Roads, who stumbled into being the only one in Kirkwall the Arishok respected… I stumbled into being Champion, too._

"That you are not chosen by the Maker is something we can both agree on, murderer," Roderick cut in, suddenly finding his voice. "You will face justice for your crimes!"

"Yes, someone will," Leliana agreed. "I doubt whoever was there with Hawke and the Divine, whoever was behind the explosion, was working alone. Perhaps they had an ally - someone might have survived." She looked over at the Chancellor, and he sputtered once more, protesting the very notion that he might have been involved in what happened.

Frankly, Kiandra doubted he'd been connected to it. The man reeked of cowardice and entitlement. He was a petty bureaucrat used to lording it over his little domain - like Seneschal Bran in Kirkwall - and in far over his head when it came to holding real power.

"Right now," Leliana went on, turning to Kiandra, "your mark is the only hope we have of closing the Breach and bringing an end to this crisis."

"This is not for you to decide!" Roderick protested again, but he blanched as Kiandra reached for her dagger - she hadn't even been intending on drawing it this time.

"It is, Chancellor," Cassandra cut in, holding up a thick book, on the cover a symbol of a stylized eye similar - but not identical - to the one on her armor. She dropped it on the table with a heavy thud. "You know what this is, Chancellor? It is a writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I am declaring the Inquisition reborn."

The name held no significance in Kiandra's mind - obviously that meant something important, but what?

Cassandra went up to the Chancellor, close enough to brandish her closed fist in his face. "We will close the Breach, find those responsible and restore order. _With or without_ your approval." Her eyes shone with fervor and zeal, and as she laid down the law to the Chancellor, Kiandra couldn't help it.

 _All right… true believer or not, she's hot._ There was something about the way she simply declared this 'Inquisition' a reality… at another time, under other circumstances… and if not for Merrill…

 _That is the true stickler, of course._

Kiandra chased the thought from her head as the Chancellor left wordlessly. To his credit, he didn't scamper like she'd have expected.

"Before the Conclave, the Divine directed that the Inqusition of old be remade to help bring order to the chaos created by this war," Leliana explained. "We were to track you down, or the Hero of Ferelden, to - "

"Recruit you to join… request your assistance in bringing an end to the war, if the Conclave failed or proved… incomplete," Cassandra cut in, sending a brief look over at Leliana. The redheaded woman just looked back silently, then nodded. "It is why I brought your friend Varric here. I had hoped he'd be able to tell me where you were, or how to contact you. He claimed he didn't know. I believed him." Cassandra grimaced, her brow furrowing. "I'm suspecting I shouldn't have."

Kiandra chuckled. "He didn't know where I was… but he did know how to get in contact with me." She hadn't doubted that he'd be unwilling to fold on her, but…

Well, Varric _had_ always been her closest friend in Kirkwall.

"That little lying - " Cassandra started angrily, then cut herself off as Kiandra glared at her.

"Leave him alone, Cassandra. Even if he'd told you how to contact me, or how to find me… I wouldn't have gone peacefully to you. I came to the Conclave on my own terms - I wouldn't have come on someone else's. I don't have a lot of trust in the Chantry as a whole, and certainly not the Seekers who failed to keep Meredith in line." Cassandra opened her mouth to reply and then clamped it shut, letting out a noise that could only be described as 'disgusted'.

If they found a moment, Kiandra knew she'd have to sit down with Cassandra and talk. If she was going to be working with this woman to close the rifts and eventually the Breach, it was inevitable.

"Right now, I think it's quite clear the Chantry doesn't trust us either," Leliana cut in. "So in addition to no leader, no resources and barely any soldiers, we have no legitimacy to draw upon, in the eyes of many."

"But we must act now. We don't have a choice." Cassandra looked over to Kiandra. "And we need your help. Not just because of your mark… but… your record speaks for itself." She let out a deep sigh. "The things you accomplished in Kirkwall - "

"I started a war and nearly started two others, if you count that mess at Chateau Haine," Kiandra replied flatly.

"You are a hero to many people, even now, Hawke," Leliana pointed out calmly. "And frankly, short of the Hero of Ferelden, you're possibly the only person the moderate factions of rebel mages would listen to at this point. And regardless of whether _you_ believe you're the Herald of Andraste, others do. As word of what happened here spreads, more will believe that as well."

Kiandra opened her mouth to protest… but…

 _What exactly is the point?_ They were both right. This mark on her hand was the only thing that could close the Breach, by all available evidence. And if people really did see her as this 'Herald', they would flock - albeit a small flock - to an organization that included her. And… well…

 _She's right about the mages._ She'd fought and bled for them at the Gallows, helping to buy as many as possible the time to escape. She'd been on the side of the mages her entire time in Kirkwall, even before becoming Champion.

If the Inquisition really was going to restore order… then they'd need to find a way to convince the mages - at least those who might still be willing to see reason - to stand down.

And…

 _I'm not going to just abandon things now._ This could be her chance. The whole reason she'd come to the Conclave was to do what she could to end this war she'd helped start.

Now…

 _Maybe I can._

"You do realize that the rebellious Templars will only be alienated by my presence? Which reminds me, what is _Cullen_ of all people doing here? I mean, fine, he said he wasn't interested in rebelling against the Chantry, but - " Kiandra shook her head. The idea of being on the same side as Cullen… it was counterintuitive.

"He is the Commander of the Inquisition's soldiers. He and a small number of former Templars joined us, as have a small number of mages," Leliana explained.

"He left the Templars to join us a few months after the Gallows," Cassandra added.. "As for the Templars… I'm not sure there's any way around that. We need you - and we need your ability to make bricks from straw."

"I think I made rubble from those bricks by the end, Seeker, but it's not as if I have a choice. As long as I am the only one who can even hope to close the Breach…" Now it was Kiandra's turn to sigh. She rested her hands on the table, leaning over it. "I suppose I'm with you…" She looked over at Leliana.

"Would you happen, Sister Nightingale, to know of a convenient way to send a message quietly, without attracting attention?" Kiandra used Leliana's other name deliberately in this case. She and Merrill had arranged several places where they could leave messages for the other, if they ever got separated. But getting a message to one of those places now would be easier said than done.

Kiandra _needed_ to make sure Merrill knew she was okay. Needed to make sure _Merrill_ was okay. If she was going to stay here and help this Inquisition, she couldn't go traipsing all over Ferelden to try and find her.

 _Maybe she'll come here to try and find me?_ Kiandra could only hope… but given the words they'd exchanged…

 _I was in the wrong. I said… Andraste's ass, there are so many things I shouldn't have said._ The words had been thoughtless, cruel, and she'd regretted them the moment she'd said them. But that had been too late. She'd seen the hurt in her love's eyes.

"I would. Once you have that message ready… just let me know where you want it sent," Leliana answered.

"Thank you," Kiandra replied sincerely. She turned to Cassandra and extended her hand. "To restoring order." _May this go better than all my previous attempts to stop the world from going mad._

"Restoring order," Cassandra agreed, and Kiandra thought she saw a hint of a smile on the woman's face as she took her hand and they shook.

 _The world is already mad, really._

 _Maybe I'll be able to make it sane again._ Or at least…

Maybe she'd be able to **help** make it sane again.

 **Haven**

"Judging from the fact that you're not locked up in a prison cell, and the way the Chancellor stormed out of the Chantry, I'm guessing you signed on with the Seeker," Varric said at her approach.

"The Herald of Andraste has signed on with the Inquisition," Kiandra replied, rolling her eyes. She'd heard still more murmurings as she'd went through Haven, looking for Varric. Surprisingly, she hadn't found him in the tavern, but standing outside by a small fire in the chill air, Bianca propped up against a crate in easy reach if he needed her.

Thankfully, no one had actually approached her and asked for her 'blessing' - or whatever it is that the Herald of Andraste was expected to do.

"Heard about that too, have you?" Varric shrugged. "People need something to believe in. A hero. That you're the famous and infamous Champion of Kirkwall only makes you even larger than life." He took a deep breath. "How are you holding up?"

Kiandra swallowed and sat down on one of the crates near the fire. "Honestly? I don't think I could give you a coherent answer. I'm still processing." Another thought occurred to her. "I might have let slip to Cassandra that you did know how to contact me… she's… well, she might be angry with you."

Varric chuckled darkly. "My experience with the Seeker has been that she's always angry with me, in one way or another. She barely believed half of what I told her about what you got up to in Kirkwall. I'll manage… probably."

"If you exaggerated with her as much as you did in _Tales of the Champion_ … I can't say I blame her for not believing you." Kiandra had known Varric told stories about her around Kirkwall, but when she'd found out in the aftermath that he'd turned those stories into a book, she'd been shocked, to say the least.

"I was wondering when we'd get to sit down and have a discussion about that." Varric barked a single laugh. "But no, when I told her what happened, I told her the truth. Even that little side-trek into the Vimmark Mountains. The one we agreed no one would believe." Kiandra shivered a little just at the reminder. The journey down into the depths of that prison, the fight against Corypheus; never in her life had she gotten so close to dying, as far as she was concerned. No other fight had been so difficult, even the one against Meredith.

"We'll have to table any discussion about your book for another time. If I live through this. But, if I _do_ live through this," she added, pointing at him, her voice going stern, "if you decide to write another book about this… Inquisition, I get to make sure you're not exaggerating too much before you send it to the printers."

"Hawke, exaggeration is the most important part of storytelling!" Varric protested. "You wouldn't want to attack my creative freedom, would you?" He shook his head. "But you'll make it through this. You have to - there's still Daisy to consider. You're going to let yourself die before you patch things up with her?"

Kiandra let out a sigh and looked into the fire, saying nothing for a minute, just watching the flames flicker in front of her. Finally, she looked back up at him. "I hope not. I asked Leliana to get a message sent to one of the places Merrill and I arranged to leave messages if we ever got separated… I can only hope she checks them at some point."

"Hawke, we really need you to get out of this self-pitying stage." Varric put a hand on her shoulder. "I suppose I could always write to Isabela, have her come here to knock some sense into you. Though… she might do a little more knocking than she needs to, when it comes to Daisy."

"I thought she was an Admiral in the raiders now, from what I'd heard? Do you really think she's gonna just drop it all and come here?" Kiandra shook her head. "No... " She took a breath. She knew how pathetic she must sound. She was a woman of action, and she ran on anger as much as anything else when it came to a fight. Anger, drive, ambition. She did best when she had a goal, a project, a mission. Perhaps if she'd had a better idea of what she was doing… a specific goal… well, maybe she'd have handled things in Kirkwall better.

But now there was one. Close the Breach. End the fighting. Ending a war would have to be easier than undoing nine centuries of animosity and hatred. Right?

 _Keep telling yourself that._ Kiandra tried to ignore that little voice in her head.

"I think mostly she just has a really big hat, but all right." Varric stepped back. "But… well, where exactly do you want to go from here? If it were anyone else, I'd be telling you to run - that this looks like it's going to end like one of my tragedies. But… well, you won't run, and besides, we've been through worse scrapes than this."

"Varric, I'm fairly certain that we've never been through a scrape like this one." She took another breath. "But I suppose this whole mess will be easier with you and Bianca along for the ride." She raised an eyebrow. "You will be staying, right? I mean… if I'm getting into this mess, I'm going to need my trusty dwarf by my side." Despite everything, she allowed herself a small smile. It was nice to spend time with Varric again, even under this cloud. He was… well, he had always been good at keeping her grounded.

"Hawke, I wouldn't abandon you out here. Besides… it's one thing to be selfish when it's something small. But this…? The whole damn world could end. Even the Hanged Man, and we couldn't have that." Varric sat down on the crate next to hers and reached into a pocket, pulling out a small metal flask, which he handed to her.

"You and me? We're in this together, however it goes." Kiandra nodded and unscrewed the flask. "Might want to take a deep drink. I have a feeling that things are only going to get crazier from here."


End file.
